


Even In Death

by Shaymed



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, Warcraft III, World of Warcraft
Genre: F/M, Silvermoon City
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-16
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2018-09-28 17:14:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10141049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shaymed/pseuds/Shaymed
Summary: Alisbeth Redblade spent her whole life among humans, training as a paladin. But one day her mentor Tirion decides she should be with her people. This story begins roughly one year before the fall of Quel'Thalas, and though it centers around Alisbeth, it is a fan-created backstory for Koltira Deathweaver.





	1. Chapter 1

EVEN IN DEATH IS UNDERGOING A REWRITE!

 

I thank you all for being so patient with me as I don't release anything. However, I'm going to be re-writing the series. The original was written to be a comic, which caused short chapters when translated from panels to prose. A lot of content will remain the same, though will hopefully be more lore-accurate (my bad on Kael'thas, thank you for not eating me alive), and have longer chapters. I am also looking at shifting some focus onto Koltira as well as Alisbeth in later chapters. I mean, it is supposed to be his backstory, after all, right? (I've even contemplated re-telling the whole thing from his perspective, instead...) 

 

Thoughts? Opinions? Hate mail? Feel free to leave a comment. <3


	2. Chapter 2

“I’m not going to pretend I’m okay with what you did to that man.”

Alisbeth glanced over her shoulder at Tirion, who had set himself in a stool in the corner of the room to wait while she unpacked her trunk. The High Elf had packed light, having pre-decided she wouldn’t like Silvermoon; the rest of her belongings remained in a trunk in the storage areas in Lordaeron and Stormwind, waiting for her return to the human world.

She turned to eye her mentor with great care, then returned to her unpacking. “He deserved it.”

A laugh barked from Tirion’s throat. “You really think so?”

“He needed to be taught a lesson in courtesy and respect. So I taught him that lesson—without injuring him, if you didn’t notice.” She unrolled a carefully bundled item to reveal a sword with a red handle and green blade that glowed with magic.

The Human’s huge hand set gently on her shoulder and she turned to look up into his eyes. “I didn’t know your father, but I should think he would be proud of you.”

Alisbeth frowned down at the weapon. “Not yet, he wouldn’t.”

“If you were a captain, like he was?”

She took the sword and nodded. “Yes. I think then he would be proud.”

“Well, then, smile, child. That day has come!”

Alisbeth’s eyes narrowed in suspicion as she turned to look at him again. “What are you talking about?”

“Your promotion. You really think ‘being with your people’ is the reason I brought you here?” Tirion laughed his booming laugh. “Gods, no, Ali. They asked for a great leader, so I brought them one.”

Alisbeth’s mouth dropped open as she gaped at him. “I-I-I’m only one-hundred and twenty!”

“Age has nothing to do with it. You’ve proven yourself since the day we met. And I don’t know if your father is seeing this now, but _I_ am proud of you.” He grabbed her into a hug.

Alisbeth smiled and bit back her excitement, trying to remain the poised woman everyone always saw. She could always scream her excitement into a pillow later. “No ceremony, right?”

He laughed again. “There will be a short one. They want to introduce you to the kingdom, starting with the citizens of Silvermoon through a ceremony with all in attendance. After which I will be returning to Lordaeron and you will be touring all of Quel’Thalas to meet the rest.”

Alisbeth’s face contorted with annoyance. “Sounds boring.”

“It’s what they want. A lot of the men answering directly to you are out there in camps. Unable to come to the ceremony.”

“Why can’t you stay?”

“You know I have duties to get back to.”

Alisbeth folded her arms and pursed her lips at him. “If you had just let me go to Northrend with Prince Arthas—”

“Uther forbade it. You know as well as I do.” Tirion stood in the doorway to leave. “Don’t give me that look,” he said, his eyes trained on her back.

Alisbeth dropped the rude face she was making to turn and shrug her innocence to her mentor. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Tirion barked a laugh and shook his head. “I’ve known you far too long for that lie to work on me, little girl. Get washed up and I’ll see you at the ceremony. Before you ask, there will be food. So don’t go eating too much of that jerky you’re much too fond of.” He gave her back a look of disgust, then closed the door behind him.

Alisbeth’s lips pursed as she stared down at the jerky in her hand that she’d been hiding from him. She finished the bite in her mouth and tossed the meat back into her leather pouch where she kept her snacks.

~ * ~

The city was dark with the night, illuminated by braziers and fire bugs. Sin’sora met Alisbeth outside the paladin’s room to lead her across the city to where the ceremony would take place. Alisbeth shifted to see so many high elves gathered—more in one place than she’d ever seen in her life. For some unknown reason, her eyes searched the faces, looking for the elf who’d bumped into her. Of all the faces she saw, none belonged to him.

Alisbeth shifted through the whole ceremony and was relieved when it ended early—a short one, as Tirion had promised. The other elves danced and ate and made merry, but Alisbeth only sat beside her mentor and ate until she felt sick. The foods were so different from those of Stormwind or Lordaeron—sweet and delicate, but more filling than she’d anticipated. When she realized her folly, she looked over the dancers and wished to be dressed for it.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Tirion said into her ear. “Come on. Before we miss our chance.” He pulled her up from her seat.

“I ate too much!” she objected.

Tirion laughed. “And I drank too much. Your argument is invalid.”

“I’m not—”

“You’re dressed fine! You can’t always hide in the corner while everyone else dances, Redblade.”

Having danced together in secret many times before, the two swept across the cobblestones, the human’s feet heavy with drink, but Alisbeth’s lithe and sure, despite her fullness. Tirion gave her a silly grin, spun her and pulled her into a hug.

“Visit me, yeah?” she whispered.

“Of course.”

~ * ~

The next day marked the start of her journey through Quel’thalas, spending hours at a steady pace atop her steed, Bloodmane, and avoiding riding too near the hawstriders the High Elves rode. The huge birds terrified her, with their twitchy, nervous dispositions and huge, sharp beaks. Tirion had left early, and Alisbeth hid her tears behind her helm as they traveled to the first camp; when they arrived, her cheeks were already dry.

In the southern woods of the kingdom she’d visited two temples that caught her attention. At the first one were the first words a weathered lieutenant had said to her.

“These temples must be defended at all costs, or the kingdom will fall.”

“There’s more than one?” she asked.

“An’daroth, An’telas, and An’owyn,” he replied.

“What’s so special about them?”

“Each holds a piece of the key to the Elfgates. The gates fall, we fall. Behind our walls, we are safe.”

Alisbeth nodded, taking in the information and doing her best to remember the names. She turned to the elf, then, and held out a hand, avoiding getting too near his hawkstrider. “Lieut—Captain Redblade.” She laughed at her slip and he smiled.

“Lieutenant So’daras Silvershield. I’m to be your First Lieutenant.”

“The blade and the shield.” She smiled wryly beneath her helm. “Why are you only now introducing yourself?”

He sighed and looked at the traveling party. “Wanted to see your sort. Everyone knows Captain Redblade of Stormwind, no one knows of his daughter.”

“You think I’m too young and wanted to see me throw some sort of petulant fit befitting my young age to give you grounds to refuse the appointment to my side,” she stated without question.

His brow pulled together in surprise. “Are you always so observant?”

“I am.”

“And are you always so bold about it?”

“I am.”

He took the time to really study her. A long time passed before he smiled. “I may like you yet.”

Alisbeth laughed. “Careful with that, you may eat your words later.”

~ * ~

Alisbeth sat at a lonely table in the Tranquillien inn, nursing a warm juice of fruits she’d never had before. That’s when she saw him. Bow strung across his back over a long sword, quiver at his thigh and leather armor beneath his battered short cloak.

“Just headed to Silvermoon,” he said as he paid for a drink.

“Again? So soon?” the barmaid asked, leaning on the counter and smiling like he was the only thing that mattered.

“Yes. The new fletcher is completely incompetent and sold me warped shafts.”

The barmaid smiled. “I don’t know what that means.”

“They don’t fly straight,” Alisbeth growled, not looking up from her scroll.

A moment later a glass set across from her and the High Elf spun the chair around so the back leaned against the side of the table. He lowered himself to straddle the seat and studied her for a long time, then smiled, all charm.

“You know much about archery?”

“I know nothing of archery,” Alisbeth said. “I only know that if something is bent, it doesn’t go straight. Much like you.” From the corner of her eye she caught his indignant brow-furrow.

“Are you saying I’m warped?”

“I’m saying you’re rude and you need someone to set you straight.”

He smirked. “Are you volunteering?”

Alisbeth scoffed and sneered at him. “You really are a piece of—”

He stood abruptly, his eyes outside as he finished his drink and set the glass on the table. “Excuse me. I’m on a schedule.” He swept out the door, leaving Alisbeth a fuming mess.


End file.
